the world according to sherimaven

Good day, Thursday. Hope all of my fellow tribe members are enjoying some apples and honey and reflecting on the year to come. I have to start cooking soon (yes, cooking) but had a thought last night that I felt was worth sharing- and that is: we have all gone crazy and cuckoo for everything "real and authentic"- and I wonder whether or not we have lost our ability to dream.

If you, like me, have spent a career in advertising, you would know that everyone, everywhere is talking about authenticity, transparency, and things needing to feel "real". You can't make an ad these days that does not have that in the brief, or most of them anyway. Sure the biggest brands have gotten hip to the fact that in order to make real connections with consumers, they need to speak their language,  not try to fool them with bullshit, and show things the "way they are". But I keep going back to the fact that all of this realness is a construct- in other words, it ain't real. And all of our social media status updates fall into that category too- they are our own edited and carefully curated views of "real" life, and we are all completely intolerant of anything that does not feel authentic in this age of organic everything, Wall Street villainry, lies, deceit, and dirty pool.

But maybe you're feeling like I do, and you're craving a little element of fantasy. In the good old days, people would go to movies to escape, to feel something, to share in a fantasy that was very clearly not their own lives. Yea documentaries fit the bill when we needed something real, but what on Earth is wrong with indulging a little fantasy from time to time? And although I'm not a super fan of Lady Gaga's, I love how she indulges that fantasy side, that side that feels otherworldly and escapist. We need that right now, don't we? After all, what's '"real" nowadays is frankly pretty terrible. I was working on a project of late that required me to look ahead to 2012, and I gotta say- it's pretty freaking terrifying out there, regardless of whether you're a end of days type. And think about Obama's campaign and what made him so successful with voters- he talked about "hope", a platform that allo

wed our minds to wander to a better time, to fantasize of what life would be like without GW in the White House. Did he deliver? Not exactly, but I love that he rallied people around belief and hope for a better future.

My sister and I have often talked about how you may never know what's really happening in peopl'es lives, how they can seem so perfect but are often so messed up. She is a person that absolutely despised the era of the 50s, even though she did not live through it nor did I. She thinks it was all a bunch of crap and a sham- the smiling housewife, the spanking new appliances, the post war era of America. Maybe it was, but it was also a time of hope, of change, and a country post a major world war, who were living what we now know as the ill fated American dream. I for one do not live anywhere near Pleasantville in my mind, but I'm not opposed to a little idyllic disbelief right now. It's too damn "real" out there, and I need a break.

I suppose that's why I love fashion so much- true I am an advocate of wearable clothes, but watching a brilliant runway show or looking at ads in magazines takes me somewhere else sometimes, and I am a girl with a vivid imagination who prefers to be carried away than to be constantly in "real life". And I still have dreams- the most brilliant people that affect culture are those that dream, that take us somewhere else with their brilliance, and that get swept up in what could be, and not what is. I'll leave the reality for the rest of the folks that feel rudderless without it- because we need them too, after all. And there is great beauty in the real as well, I'm not dismissing a stripped down ideal that is pure and simple.  Just don't forget to be "unreal" from time to time- it keeps you inspired and fresh and more equipped to deal with "real life", whatever that may be for you, me, or them. Cause that's what's up this fantasy of a Thursday in the MIA. XO

Hi, Wednesday...the Jewish New Year begins tonight at sundown, and I'm looking forward to this year for sure...lots of changes afoot, all good, and exciting. More on that front soon...

Other than that, I think the Jewish approach to New Year's is a bit different than the secular version. The Jewish New Year begins at Rosh Hashanah and a week after is Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the Jewish year. It's a time to fast, reflect, and apologize to all of those people that you may have wronged, a big part of celebrating the Jewish New Year is making amends with people so that you can be inscribed in the great book of life for another year by the big guy. So it's not really about champagne and parties, it's a time of reflection and solemn prayer.

It's tough to observe the holidays when your family is not nearby, but I will take a time out to reflect on the year ahead- I am not a religious person, but I do feel spiritually connected to some higher power of late, so going to go with that and give thanks for what I do have, as well as look to the future with hope and reverence and gratefulness. And then I'm going to think about planning a trip to Jamaica, because it's time for me to go back. It's a place that inspires me, rejuvenates, and speaks to the spiritual part of my soul, and each time I go my love for it grows. I happen to live 15 minutes from one of the nicest beaches in America, and take it for granted. But Jamaica is special in a way that Miami can't touch - the soulfulness and humility of the people, the amazing food, the lushness, the music. All of it. It's been a couple of years since we've been there and I want to go back. I'm thinking of going back to Port Antonio, former home of Noel Coward and Erroly Flynn and one of the most lovely places I have ever been.

How are Rosh Hashanah and Jamaica connected? To me, it's simple. Both represent a higher power,  a time and place to reflect and recharge, to appreciate what we have, to make peace, and be thankful. Whenever I need to take a time out and get back in touch with myself, my mind goes to Jamaica. Just the way it is...and with that, I hope that this new year brings you much health and happiness, and here's hoping I land in Jam Rock some time this year or early next. And on this holiday, whether you are Jewish or not, find that place in your mind that brings you peace- in these tumultuous times, it's worth a shot. We all need to find some peace these days.  And that's what's up this apples and honey of a Wednesday in the MIA. Happy and healthy to you and yours. XO

Hey, Tuesday. I'm still admittedly draggy but sure I will get over it...as I sifted through about a week's worth of mail and magazines last night, I came across Barneys' new print piece entitled "Carine's World", a celebration of their recent collaborative lovefest for all things Carine Roitfeld (she styled their Fall campaign), freshly departed editrix of Paris Vogue. I have been a Carine fan for almost as long as I could say "Rick Owens is a G-d", and I have always loved her incredibly steely and hard edged point of view. I am so not a girly girl, and either is Carine, although her play on androgyny and texture makes her looks over the top and wildly sexy. And her French take on cool is well, almost too much to take. But I'll take it.

I think I've mentioned before that my clothes need to feel a bit tough, for the most part. Sure I'll rock a girly dress from time to time, but it's not really my thing. I like clothes that are edgy, yet classic, and mostly dark in the palette department. This print piece is an homage to everything I love, and the transcendent rock star tough chick chic that Carine is known for. Many of the looks in the book had me over the moon, in particularly the fur trimmed Junya Watanabe, on the gorgeous Giovanna Battaglia. And the Row cutaway coat on the hotter than anyone Natasha Poly had me at hello, and would continue to have me at goodbye. Amazing.I like a wardrobe steeped in pieces that make one look cooler than anyone else in the room, with pieces that are ready for everything from work to a gallery opening to a stroll around Berlin. It's almost too much to take, and this little printed piece is so well edited with girls from China Macado to China Chow to Carolyn Murphy (in Marni fur) wearing clothes that feel timeless and trendy and just a tad intimidating all rolled into one and without an ounce of fuss. J'adore. Oh and that Theodora Richards shot in Rodarte? Stick a fork in, stick a fork in now. So elegant and feminine yet also tough tough tough. Would you mess with any of these ladies? I think not. (PS- that cool looking chick hanging out against the radiator wearing one shouldered Lanvin? It's Bambou, Serge Gainsborg's last wife. Yup. It is).

And speaking of fuss, I was noting a male friend of mine's Facebook status yesterday, making fun of Anthropologie, that bastion to all things girly and Etsyfied, yet mass but made to feel art teacher/earthy chic. I had to laugh because my husband also hates that store, it gives him hives. Sure I have bought a few pieces here and there from said establishment, but the girly look is just not how I roll, and I much prefer Carine's world to the world of Anthropologie any damn day. It's a world of Rick Owens, Rochas, and Haider Ackerman, full of leather and cashmere and fur and hard lined hotness that hisses "come closer, but don't fuck with me". I'm in. Sign me up. I need some elegant rebelliousness in my life, and these clothes fit the bill.

So as I was searching for some inspiration, I found it in the way of this little glimpse into Carine's world. If you'd like to join me there, I'll be peering at you from underneath my Junya Watanabe capelet, waiting for you. Cause that's what's up this Carine is everything kind of Tuesday in the MIA. Rock and roll spiky kisses to you and yours. XO

Suck. Yuck. I should probably stop listening to Jackson Browne, who is on my Spotify radio right now...lack the motivation for a proper post today so hang in there...dying to get back in bed and mourn the loss of my hard drive.

Oh and I just spotted these on Refinery 29...if I must work, I should be wearing these...love love love. Perfect for nappy Mondays...I'm moving on to Fleetwood Mac's Rumours now. Peace out. I just ordered the below leggings. Maybe you should too, if you like me, are prone to melancholy classic rock and sleepiness today. That's what's up. And that's all. XO

http://www.generationloveclothing.com/shop/fran-sweagging

Hey, Thursday...I'm off like a bad habit to Philly for my nephew's bar mitzvah...gotta jet. Back 'atcha next week, luvvies. Have to pack and get ready...mwah mwah mwah and more. Don't you just love this photo by Tommy Ton? Suits my mood today just fine. Oh and who wouldn't run for the sake of fashion, for goodness sake? XO

Hiya, Wednesday...I'm working away the morning listening to Flo and the Machine and looking forward to a fun weekend in Philadelphia at my nephew's bar mitzvah...hard to believe really. My, how time goes by.

So last night I happened to catch the iconic "Say Anything" as I was settling in for the night. It's a hard movie to turn away from, this much I can say, and it takes me immediately back to my youth, since the movie was made in 1989 when I was but a young girl. I very clearly remember watching this film, as a loveless rookie who very much wanted an oversized, trench coated gentleman to hold up a boom box with Peter Gabriel coming out of it, at very high decibels. I had absolutely no idea what was in store for me in terms of romance, life, or anything else, really. All I knew is that Lloyd seemed fantastic and adorable, that he fought for his girl, that he didn't give up, that yea, maybe he was kind of mediocre but he was passionate about the most important thing of all- being in love, and he was good at it, too. (The kickboxing thing seems weird now, but that's not here nor there really).  As I watched, I posted a comment on Facebook that every girl, regardless of who she is, wants a Lloyd Dobbler moment in her life. I was nervous posting that- thinking that maybe todays' power femmes would be offended by the notion that they would need a man to play a song for them out of an antiquated device, that it's a cheesy notion for cheesy and sappy girls. But I was surprised by how many of my beautiful girl friends agreed. And guys, if you don't know this about us, listen up: we all want to be adored, and we want you to do the adoring. Not sure how that's a news flash, but I think in this era of women on top, it's worth mentioning. Call me old fashioned then, but we still want that, even if we adore ourselves more than ever before. Just worship us, would you?

And what I really love about Lloyd (besides the fact that I have always found young Cusack's sarcasm and earnestly low self esteem enchanting) is that he's a fabulous testament to men everywhere- and in a day and age where men seem to be a little lost, I think you could all take a little turn at finding your inner Lloyd Dobbler- because you can still be who you are, you just need to be a good man. That's really about it. And that's what most of us want- the Gabriel soundtrack is an added bonus, but believe me, we all want something to remind us of how much you care, even if the late 80s are long since gone. If you do not feel like blasting a song out of a boombox for your lady, then it's worth thinking about why, and that maybe you are not meant to be. And girls, if your man won't do that for you, you too should drastically reconsider things.

Watching this film now makes me think of a time when I thought I knew what and who my ideal man would be (had more of an idea than I thought). If looking through the lens of Hollywood, I always found Jake Ryan of Sixteen Candles to be close to perfection, but somehow he felt completely out of my league- too athletic, preppy, and too rich for an art school girl like me who was prone to Joy Division and Baudelaire. Then of course there's Lloyd, who represents the glorious every man, with great and heroic aplomb. I love you, Lloyd. I do.

But my biggest crush of all was Judd Nelson's character (Bender) in The Breakfast Club. The misunderstood/deepdarkeyes/indiemofo/couldkickanass/Heathcliff from Wutherhing Heights/ nobody understands me but you/letsgetdrunkandmakeout/brooding type bad seed- you all know the type well and unfortunately so do I. Because that type would often lead to my chronic disappointment in later years- there were a few Benders thrown into the mix just enough to make me properly insane, because you simply can't fix guys like that. They're broken. And tragic. But I suppose that's part of their appeal. (Oh and did I mention my hugely major crush on Bill Murray in both Meatballs and Stripes? It's uncanny how even at a young age I knew I had to be with a man who made me laugh, that's absolutely non-negotiable).

So where am I going with all of this, you may ask? No, I'm not stuck in some 80s teen fantasy- I'm just saying there were some interesting types out there in movie land in my youth that informed the way I viewed men, and I suspect that a lot of other women view men too. Nowadays it's more Edward vs. Jacob but the song pretty much remains the same.

Because ladies, regardless of whether or not you were in diapers when this film was made, you'd be well served to find your very own Lloyd Dobbler type, even if your dad doesn't approve-  sure there's a chance he will not afford you a life of leisure or pick up after himself, but you can't buy love like that, can you? Go ahead and try. I'll wait.

Oh and boys- WE ALL WANT TO BE LLOYDED. Just so you know- we care not about your Aston Martin or your busted up Corolla, the amount of crunches you can do or the microbrew belly you seem to have acquired, or your ability to speak five languages or barely speak at all. What we do care about is knowing that you care and are willing to fight to keep us, and that you'll fly to whatever city we are going to so you can hold our hand on the flight. Seems simple enough to me.

As far as the other archetypes, I think I netted out pretty well in the end, and found a man who is a nice combination of my teenaged movie paramours. I could have very well ended up going full Bender (never go full Bender by the way) and been denied a Lloyd. What I did get was a guy who is part Lloyd/part Bill Murray/and part Bender. (Just the right amount there- I was not fully willing to give up the broody type, that would be wrong). Whoever you end up with, just find a man that will show you who he is, and by doing so, will show you how much he cares. That's all I have to say about that. I got bored talking about fashion so decided to talk about another one of my favorite things, love. And that's what's up this Wednesday in Miami, in your eyes. All the love. I believe in it still, and that's that. XO

PS Joe does lie. He just does.

Good morning you beautiful Tuesday...I got started early today, which admittedly I love. I am so much more productive in the wee small hours than any other time- the morning is a gift to me that I am always more than willing to receive.

And speaking of gifts, I had the great fortune to watch Burberry's Spring 2012 online as it was happening (you can still watch it, link below) and let me tell you- it was transcendent. The New York shows had me scratching my red head, wondering if it was true what people said- that fashion is out of touch and irrelevant and not in tune with these very hard times. As I watched show after show, I was disappointed by looks that felt clueless. But this show, this show, THIS SHOW.  Held in a simple construct in Hyde Park with clear windows looking out on to nothing but greenery (right there- transparency- totally in tunet), I felt the love. As Nina Simone's "I Put a Spell on You" blared, I was indeed, under the influence and fully smitten by all things Burberry.

I felt love for this incredibly crafted collection because it felt like Robin Hood in the Sherwood Forest (the colors, though somber for Spring were deep and lush and rich and pastoral), a bit of the tribal Queen Mab in terms of romance and innocence and nature, mixed in with the enveloping notions of handmade- those little knit hats were right in tune with our current love affair for all things handmade. Look after beautiful length felt just right. I adored the skirt lengths, the insanely beautiful hair and makeup (so so simple) and the setting- it felt like a transforming experience, even though I watched it from my cosseted office tower. The theme of nature, authenticity, and a somber, delicately quiet reverence for the outdoors felt like an incredible and seminal moment for fashion, and it's then I realized- maybe fashion does not speak to every one of us, but for those of us who worship at its altar, it can transform the darkest of days- as George Harrison's "My Sweet Lord" quietly played for the show's finale as gorgeous human after gorgeous human modeled amazing looks and as what looked like gold fairy dust fell on the runway, I felt happy, hopeful, and inspired. And to me, that's not irrelevant. At all.

I urge you to find your non irrelevant thing today- whether it's fashion, football, or philately. In these times, anything that can move you is a great thing, and Christopher Bailey moved me all the way from London yesterday, and I thank him for it. What a gorgeous ode to where we are and where we are going. I for one remain a steadfast fan of beauty- wherever you can find it. Cause that's what's up this Burberry rocked my world on Monday kind kind of Tuesday in the MIA. And from one of the songs from the show, U2's version of "Everlasting Love"- REAL LOVE WILL LAST FOREVER (what more is there, really?) XO

Here is the link..prepare to be blown away:

http://us.burberry.com/store/shows/#/ss12-womenswear

The inimitable Fischerspooner? Thanks to them I got through my workout today, and I need more and am wondering where they be...with Jeffrey Deitch moving to the left coast, does that negate them? Yea, I could google them and find out their whereabouts but Monday has me meandering...that is all. Cause that's what's up this where are they now kind of Monday in the MIA.  Uh huh, that's right. XO

(In other news, I love this dress from the runway at the Acne show in London town...good stuff).

Holy merde, Friday. Right in the nick of time...thank you. So I'm freelancing at an office right now that has Hawaiian shirt day today. Yea, that's right. Hawaiian shirts. I half expect Michael Scott to jump out and make some bullshit joke about getting lai'd. Oh my, how did I get here?

Some of you that know me know I am not a joiner in any real sense- never have been, never will be. Sure I hopped on a few crowded trains for a hot minute, and definitely went through different phases that made me feel like I was part of something. But really I care not to take part in most things, because I simply like to do things my own way- and organized Hawaiian shirt day is definitely not for me, nor is it in any way "my way".

Maybe it's because I'm proto Gen X (see there's a group I'm a part of), but I still harbor a bit of punk rock rebelliousness into my every day- a bit of apathy, a bit of cynicism (alright more than a bit), and more than enough of an indie soul. I simply am that way, and the thought of becoming too much a part of the establishment has always terrified me (yea yea I know I'm too late). Sure I've succumbed to working in advertising all these years, having to play well with others in the sandbox, and making sure I show up to meetings in appropriate attire and from time to time take one for the team. I guess we all have to grow up a bit, but it ain't easy.

And speaking of that, did you know this week marks the 20th anniversary of the release of Nirvana's Nevermind? It's fucking hard to believe but it's true- that it's been two decades since we smelled teen spirit for the first time. I'll be the first to admit that the whole grunge thing did not take over my life like it did for a lot of friends of mine (I was in college then)- simply because long haired guys in flannel shirts were not my thing, though Marc Jacobs collection of that era was one of the most memorable of all time- his homage to his grunge heroes made his career. But hearing Nirvana and Kurt for the first time did have a big effect on me and formed some part of my youth, and spoke to that little rebel soul in all of us. True music snobs will claim Nirvana destroyed grunge by going too mainstream- another typical Gen X sentiment, by the way (smells like sellout).

Regardless, Kurt's eerie hotness and primal scream were unforgettable, intangible, and sensational. Ever the reluctant rock star (or so it seemed), Kurt was dreamy and fucked up and a bit of a Pacific Northwestern Rimbaud. And there's still a part of me that knows that every time I frown at convention and office politics, I owe some of my discontent to the music I grew up listening to, and that was part of my world. G-d bless Nirvana, sell out, or not for starting a revolution, and making some fantastic music in the process. (I'm not sure the world would be as good if the song 'Lithium' wasn't in it). I miss Kurt and his beautiful loneliness. And you bet your ass he would never subscribe to Hawaiian shirt day, unless it involved ripping one to pieces and setting it on fire, or maybe he would wear one all day, in a sort of reverse fuck you. I'm simply not cool enough for that.

Besides the fact that it's been 20 years since then is giving me a midlife crisis, I can't help but feel grateful that I got to experience that time in music, even though I never claimed it as mine, because it did offer us something different, at a time when rock and roll was mostly hairspray and leopard leggings. I also very much remember the day Kurt died, much as I remember other epic moments in my trajectory. Oh and of course he was 27, like all the great ones are when they go.

So I task you to think about how important Nirvana was to music, and maybe you'll channel your inner intolerance for bullshit today, regardless of whether or not you got down with the Seattle sound. I know I will. In fact, I already have- and as I watch someone run by my office in a grass shirt as I listen to "Rape Me", I somehow feel better. Hope you are all going to do something cool this weekend- just don't sell out. At least not in an obvious way...cause that's what's up this flanneled Friday in the MIA. Come as you are. XO

Hey hey Thursday, I'm sitting here listening to The Replacements, having a nostalgic moment for my misspent youth. How great a song is "I'll be You"? Loving it.

And speaking of misspent moments, I'm going to chalk the New York shows up to a huge identity crisis on part of American designers, and as the week nears an end, I've never been so disappointed by the offerings of our talented fashion folks. I'm wondering if the acute schizophrenia and lack of cohesion of most of the shows is tapping into how we are feeling in this country this day- a bit lost, rudderless, and all over the place. Sure there were obvious themes of color blocking, bold color like orange, and  a sporty mood punctuated by ankle braced shoes.

But as I looked at the shows and wondered how it is Michael Kors could send down a knee high gladiator sandal, it became clear to me that there is a strong possibility that just like the state of the nation, designers are a bit out of touchthese days with their constituents- and as manic Missoni mavens searched for bargain basement zig zag and almost trampled each other in the process, the shows went on, with no sense of how a non American designer was tapping into what many of us really want here in the good old US of A- a moderately priced yet iconic piece of clothing, without a whole lot of bells and whistles. And the Target collection was very, very cool, from what I could see of it anyway. I'm thinking of buying the black and white bike.

I will say one designer who kind of killed it for me was Phillip Lim, with his 3.1 collection. The looks here felt far away from color blocking and loud color- they were wearable, cool, and stood for American sportswear when it is at its best- sexy, unpretentious, and ultimately stylish in that casual chic way that we love so much. There was a weightlessness there, a lifting of restraint that I loved- and a sentiment that all of us need- life has been tough of late and these clothes feel remarkably on target for such tough times. I dig them wholeheartedly, and you should too. Pics below from fashiononlogie.com tell the story- great pieces for one and all.

And with the economy being the way it is and all this talk of douple dippity do, designers would be smart to not create such unwearable and altogether weird collections- now is not the time- we simply need clothes we can depend on, without a lot of trickery. Of this I am sure...cause that's what's up this hoping 7th Avenue gets the message kind of Thursday in the MIA. Only a few more shows to go in NYC so we shall see, won't we?  You be me for a while and I'll be you. XO